Look a little further
by Valeriasg1
Summary: Birthday traditions should never be broken. JohnElizabeth, set in S2. No spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: I don't own these characters, yadda yadda…

A/N: Many thanks to Marcy and Fay for their wonderful beta job. You rock!

Dedicated to my friend Mercy, who influenced me with her post-it icons. hugs

It was all his fault. He was the one who had started it all.

The enormous stack of Happy Birthday cards sat colorful and proud on her desk, next to the even taller pile of reports waiting to be read and signed within the day.

Rumors had started flowing freely after Rodney had spilled everything about the omnipresent pot that decorated her office. One that, people recalled, hadn't been there when they had first arrived in Atlantis.

It wasn't long before the buzz on her supposed torrid affair with the handsome military commander ceased – not altogether, but she wasn't going to complain – and her birth date became public knowledge among the expedition personnel.

Her birth date, her zodiacal sign and all the hypothetical personality traits that came with it had fed the speculation about the woman behind the leader. The Chinese scientists had even come up with some curious interpretations and a detailed horoscope based on their own astrology.

Elizabeth couldn't deny that she was rather pleased, if not flattered, that so many people had taken the time to wish her a good day and to thank her for her devotion to her job, but from a certain perspective, it was also very embarrassing.

As opposed to what her job usually made people think, she didn't like being the center of attention. Even though she always had the right face to display and the right words to say, it made her feel uncomfortable and self-conscious. And what she had seen of herself in the last few months of her command was making her seriously doubtful of deserving that praise.

She had already opened a few gifts that had been sitting outside her quarters' door that morning, mostly sweets and a heavy winter blanket from the Athosians, and more lay scattered around her office. Chocolate and junk food in general seemed to be the big hit this year in Atlantis.

Maybe she should stop feeling so flattered and realize her people were actually plotting to get rid of her. by luring her into eating her way into a diabetic coma.

She smiled inwardly at her mock paranoia and unwrapped a stray snickers bar she had found propped against John's pot.

It wasn't exactly Carson's idea of a healthy breakfast but that would have had to do. At least until someone took pity on her and provided her with a tray from the mess hall on their way back to work.

Reports and thank you cards weren't going to sign themselves and she couldn't afford to take the time for a proper meal, even if that meant not spending as much time with her people as she'd like to.

The candy bar had probably been put there on purpose as a bait, because she spotted a yellow post-it stuck to the pot's round belly. It read 'open me' in thick capital letters.

She would have had no doubts about the author even if he had omitted the small 'J' on the bottom-right corner.

Elizabeth peeled the piece of paper off the vase and repositioned it on the top envelope of her pile of cards. She applied a gentle pressure with her thumb, running it from corner to corner until the adhesive patch adhered to the surface below, then lifted the pot's lid and peeked inside.

Hail to creativeness and imagination. More chocolates and miniature candy bars winked at her in their sparkly wrappings, and for a moment, Elizabeth thought longingly of the bonsai plants Simon used to give her on small occasions.

"Here's our birthday girl. Not a girl anymore, I'm afraid."

"I can see you are always the gentleman, Colonel." Elizabeth lifted her eyes to the entrance to her office. John was leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and a teasing smile on his face.

She wondered whether he spent his free time practicing and creating new poses. Distracting poses, she thought as her gaze fell on his flexed biceps.

"Anyway, I seem to recall you're the next one on the list, aren't you?" An eyebrow twitched on its own accord as she failed to maintain a serious face.

The good-natured retort was promptly ignored, and Elizabeth knew she had hit a spot. He wasn't that far behind her after all, and you can play Peter Pan only for so long.

John pushed himself off the doorframe and walked fully into the room.

"So, have you already found my little something?"

"As a matter of fact, I have." She nodded towards the post-it and the still untouched snickers bar.

"But I'm afraid you aren't going to win any prize for the most original gift this year. Although the chocolate coated oranges are a nice touch. Thanks." The smile she gave him was small but genuine.

"Are you sure? I'd look again if I were you." John's eyes twinkled as he eased himself into a chair.

He leaned over, feigning curiousness, as Elizabeth opened the pot again and placed the lid on her desk.

Half-drowned in sweets, the corner of some piece of paper stuck out at the exact center of the vase.

She lifted her eyebrows at the man sitting across her and she fished it out. It was a plain white card the size and the consistence of a calling card, and the hand-writing on the glossy surface was a little smudged. This time there were no initials.

"Bottom drawer." She read aloud. "You are not planning on making me run around the city on a treasure hunt, are you?"

The right corner of her mouth quirked upwards in that 'I-am-intrigued' smile he had come to know so well and loved to see directed at him.

John shrugged vaguely and urged her on with a nod of his head. The ensemble was mitigated by his trademark puppy face in one of its countless nuances.

Intrigued indeed she was. He could see it from the way her eyes darted back and forth between the card and the drawers. And from the brief moment of hesitation she always had when she was trying to wrap her mind around something.

In this case, what he had up his sleeve this time around was the reason for both.

John knew she was working out a series of possible reactions in her mind. A very valuable asset in negotiations, which had a very bad habit of seeping all too often into her personal relationships.

Elizabeth pressed her lips together and exhaled through her nose, eyeing him suspiciously. He tilted his chin upwards and watched as she followed the instruction and struggled to haul the heavy package onto her desk.

She squinted at it, confusion etched into her features, and John was satisfied he had managed to get the desired effect out of her.

"Come on." He pushed again.

She cut the tape that held the wrapping paper together with the sharp blade of her scissors – always the perfectionist – and moved it aside to reveal the dark brown, ancient-looking cover of two large tomes.

She lifted the hard leather cover of the first book and opened it to the first page. She ran her fingers down the thin yellowed paper and over the small indentures of the letters where the pen-nib, or whatever instrument they had used to write on these pages, had been pressed harder into the sheet.

"It's ancient." Her eyes danced with scholarly excitement as she turned page after page. "Where did you find them?"

"You like them?"

"Sure I do!" The smile she awarded him with was the inconfutable proof she was telling the truth.

"Teyla pointed me to the Kessian market; they still have a few books around there."

"Make sure to thank her on my behalf when you see her, and tell her I'll do it myself as soon as I resurface from all the paperwork."

He nodded his assent, and leant further forward to place a hand on the book Elizabeth was currently studying.

"From what the seller has told me, the books are about 400 years old. They're both collections of popular tales; the first book is pre-Wraith, the second one covers the short time span between the Wraith's arrival and the destruction of the civilization, about 10,000 years ago."

"God, these people had probably been obliterated before the ancients left for Earth. Did he tell you how the tales survived for so long?" She barely looked at him while speaking, and it told him he had given her the right present.

Elizabeth never failed to look at her interlocutor in the eye, unless she was tending to a matter of vital importance. Or to some local texts, preferably history or literature, as she was doing now.

"He didn't know exactly, he suggested foreign scholars had taken it upon themselves to hand down what was left of fallen civilizations. You know, like that guy you speak tongues with that has sent you the tablets." John nodded towards the stone tablets lying on the shelf behind her back.

"His name's Doctor Daniel Jackson, and the tablets hold important information on the Ancients' presence in the Milky Way."

He raised his eyebrows at her and shrugged lightly, falsely dismissing the subject to provoke some sort of reaction from her.

John had repeatedly teased her about the insane –at least to him- passion for foreign cultures she shared with Doctor Jackson.

She found it amusing that a man like John could feel somewhat threatened by a man he would otherwise call a geek. Or that he was thoroughly convinced they were laughing at him in the SGC commissary, the last time they were on Earth.

She had told him to learn Russian so he could take part to their conversations next time. And read "War and Peace" in its original version while he was at it.

He turned her attention back to him by half covering her hand with his own on the rough surface of the paper, not before he glanced behind himself to check for unwanted audience.

"Can I see you tonight?" Despite the apparent lack of people, he decided to keep his tone low all the same. Probably to sound tempting to her ears more than for sake of prudence.

Elizabeth sighed.

"I don't know. I have so many reports to go through. And, thanks to you and Rodney, a number I'm trying not to think about of 'thank you' cards to write."

There was no reason why she couldn't postpone some of the work to the following day, if the thought of leaving something behind didn't make her stomach clench unpleasantly.

"We haven't been together in over a week."

No need to remind her. She kept count of every night they spent apart due to their diverging schedules, and they were far too many, especially now that the waters were uncharacteristically still.

She felt their relationship was made of stolen looks and touches, and eternal planning for encounters that would most likely have to be cancelled for external causes.

His thumb drew lazy circles on the back of her hand. And as if that, - and the pout that was rapidly reappearing on his features – wasn't enough, he leaned fully against the back of the chair and made sure she could see just how well the black shirt fit on his torso.

"Come on. It's your birthday, you deserve to take a break."

He was doing it deliberately, but she had soon learned how to play by his rules.

"Actually…" She began, mimicking his action. "I do feel a little tired."

She stretched lightly, arching her back as she did so, exposing the soft column of her throat to him. Her breasts were pushing out and straining against the snug fabric of her shirt.

John knew that just outside his line of sight, the shirt was doubtlessly riding up, revealing a tantalizing half-inch of pale stomach. She heard him hiss, and smiled triumphantly as she retook her business position.

"I'll see what I can do." Their hands touched again briefly as John rose from his chair, his eyes still lingering on her chest.

"Now go take care of your men. I'll see you and your team in the briefing room in an hour. And please, tell Zelenka I want to see him, too."

"Why do we need two scientists?" He was already frowning.

"It's nothing you should worry about. Be patient and you'll find out soon."

John flashed her a lopsided grin and after a small bow of his head he strolled out of her office, hands in pockets and hair sticking out proudly at the back of his head.

Once again alone, Elizabeth reluctantly closed the book and set it on the shelf with its companion for later, and deeper, inspection. She shook her head at the man that cared more than he ever let on, and picked up the first report from her pile. Time for work.


	2. Chapter 2

He passed by her office the first time at 10.00 pm, when the guards in the control room were switching places at the beginning of the first night shift. At this time of the evening most of the staff had already left their positions to reach either the recreation areas, or if they were planning to call it an early night, their quarters.

It was by far Elizabeth's favorite time of the day, when she could clear her mind of the frenetic rhythm of the control room and work serenely for another hour or two before the need to sleep became too compelling.

Almost devoid of human life in its corridors, the city hummed discreetly around her, and without the usual daily commotion she could hear the soothing, steady rolling of waves in the distance. And there were always familiar faces downstairs, keeping an eye on received data or typing away at their computer devices, so she had company.

There was a certain degree of complicity, camaraderie, that developed among the small group of late workers, not only with each other but with the city itself. It was the closest moment she had to actual time to herself, and she highly valued it.

Among the light banter of a peaceful night a pair of boots left the small group, and her trained ears isolated the steady thumping from the dull background noises.

After almost two years she could quite accurately predict when someone was walking in the direction of her office.

Elizabeth always made a point to lift her eyes from her work to check whether this someone wanted to talk to her or just to greet the passers-by. This time, when she did, she met the amused gleam in John Sheppard's green eyes that never failed to set off alarm bells in her head.

She frowned in confusion as he absently waved at her and walked on without even slowing his pace.

He was back less than twenty minutes later, going in the opposite direction, and repeated the gesture before disappearing down the stairs.

She forced herself to keep her head down the next time she felt his familiar steps approach the door to her office. He deliberately stomped harder with his boots on the floor to draw her attention and started whistling a tune she vaguely associated with the football tapes he treated like relics.

No week passed without him boring her to death with endless reiterations of the same victorious touchdown or with names and numbers that her brain couldn't hold for more than a few seconds.

The relaxed shared meals or the domestic touching that usually accompanied such trivial themes were well worth the tedium. If there weren't more urgent topics of discussion, it meant Atlantis and her people were safe.

But speaking of tedium. Elizabeth schooled her expression into one of indifference and tried uselessly to maintain the focus on the words she was reading. She was getting as frustrated by the unwanted distraction as he was by the lack of attention.

She managed more or less successfully in ignoring him the following two times he walked by, bouncing a hard rubber ball off the floor, until the sphere escaped him and bounced happily down the stairs and across the control room, earning him a bi-lingual scolding from Zelenka about the destructive potential of the aforementioned ball.

Elizabeth's patience snapped at the aggravated tone in the Czech's voice and she hurried out of her office with a sigh. She was willing to let him have his way if it made him feel better and helped him kill time while she wrapped up her load of work for the day, but any interference and disturbance in the others' work was intolerable.

Especially when Ancient technology was concerned.

"Colonel, could I have a word please?"

John grimaced mentally. There went his plans for the evening.

Both he and Zelenka lifted her heads to look at her form several feet above them. Leaning against the railing with one hand and with the other at her waist, she looked just about to start tapping her foot on the floor.

She watched him climb the two staircases, his bouncy stance forgotten in favor of a more submissive attitude, and preceded him into her office, regaining her position behind her desk before she spoke.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" She was keeping her voice low not to draw any further attention, and the words sounded more hissed than actually spoken.

The tip of his tongue made an appearance and he moistened his lips, buying a few more seconds to think up an answer that would get him out of her office unharmed and with his ego as intact as possible.

"I was just taking a stroll and passed by to check whether you were done with the reports." He felt his brow wrinkle as he delivered the poor excuse.

"I thought it would have been obvious at your first visit that I wasn't." She spread both hands on her desk, finding the support she needed to lean forward and close part of the space that separated them.

"Are you now?"

Elizabeth sent a chastising glare his way.

"It's late Elizabeth, and it's your birthday. Can't you just cheat once in a while? You need to relax."

Although his head was characteristically cocked to the side and accompanying one of his best arrogant expressions, she didn't miss the drop of the pitch in his voice which meant there was seriousness behind the usual laid-back attitude.

It hadn't take her much time to figure out that a good part of her senior staff chose to protect their hearts by hiding the rawest side of them behind a shell that was as thick as the one she wore.

Part of it was required by her leading position, and ready to be shed on Earth, but his…His had calcified over the years, layer after layer, and enveloped a burden whose contents were still largely a mystery to her.

John had made it her task to pick and combine the pieces of the puzzle he'd started throwing at her on random occasions when they had decided to let their relationship grow. He probably wasn't doing it unconsciously, either.

It was more convenient to him to have her figure it all out by herself than take up the courage to show himself exposed and vulnerable to her eyes.

She had come to learn that 'you need to relax', when not associated to explicit threats of calling Carson, was his designated euphemism for 'I really want to spend some time with you', and it never failed to make her smile as if he had really voiced the latter phrase.

John saw her look down, her lips slightly parted to take in a breath she then released as a sigh as she sat back into her chair.

She nodded towards the row of armchairs against the wall facing her desk. "Sit there and be quiet. I won't be long." She picked up an espresso chocolate from her seemingly endless reserve and promptly popped it into her mouth. "You can eat and use your PDA if you want."

He allowed a triumphant grin to materialize on his face as he sank into one of the armchairs with a handful of peanuts M&M's. "Yes ma'am."


	3. Chapter 3

"There is some rough information regarding the position of the planet. We can ask Rodney's team to run a search based on these parameters, they might come up with something." Elizabeth wrote swiftly on her PDA, the electronic pen gliding smoothly over the small screen. Her eyes danced between the small device and the large book precariously propped against the front of her thighs as she struggled to interpret the text without the help of their translation program.

"And I guess you'll want me and my team to visit the planet if we do find it." John's voice came, somewhat groggy, from very near her ear. She settled more comfortably between his legs, her back resting fully against his chest as he pressed his lips warmly against her temple.

It was their designated reading position, intimate enough to enjoy extensive physical contact while it allowed them both a clear view on the book. It was also the most practical way to fit two adult bodies in the tiny Atlantean bed, that was obviously not intended for sharing.

Elizabeth fitted nicely in the frame of his legs, and she was tall enough to allow him easy access to her hair, face and neck. With which he tended to distract himself all too often when he wasn't in the right mood for literature. She sometimes fussed a little then, craning her neck to escape his attentions and recalling his focus on the book. Other times the book lay abandoned on the floor beside the bed, still open at the page they'd been reading.

"If it has a Stargate or it's not too far by Puddle Jumper I think it could be worth a shot. There might be something of strategic importance left among the ruins. Plans on how to defeat the Wraith, projects or prototypes of weapons…a ZPM…If, on the other hand, another civilization has developed on the planet we'll try to make contact and hopefully, establish a mutually productive alliance." She turned a thin page, and to do so she placed the PDA momentarily on her abdomen, just under the strong arm slung casually across her waist. She felt him shift a little against her back, muscles flexing and pressing into her shoulder blades, as his other hand reached for the device.

"Aren't you running a little too fast?" He threw an idle look at her notes and replaced the PDA where he found it. "These books were supposed to be a diversion, you know. Foreign narrative. Cultural exercise." He teased her lightly.

Not that he'd ever really thought it would work.

Elizabeth's mind was constantly active in taking care of the city and its residents, and she was always ready to lend a helping hand to those who needed one. Always focused on the task at hand – sometimes more than one at once, he mused -, the rare times she wasn't presented with an external challenge she created one herself.

The only real relief came with sleep, and even that didn't come in large quantities in the city of the Ancients. And when earpieces weren't buzzing and alarms weren't howling, there were still too many nightmares that came to haunt them at night.

He had seen their leader either physically and psychologically beaten on different occasions by now, and she had always been able to pick herself up afterwards.

Every time a little more disillusioned, every time with a few more cracks in her shiny armor and a few more lines on her face.

John wondered how much more she could take before she fell apart completely, and hoped he would never have to find out. He took her weight when she leaned, and she did the same when he needed her to, keeping the delicate balance that maintained them both sane and efficient in their jobs.

He tried to keep the thought of one of them missing in the equation out of his mind, at least as much as their always precarious situation allowed, and treasured every moment he spent with her and his team.

"Maybe I am. But it's still nice to dream sometimes, isn't it?" She sighed. She twisted her torso to look up at him, as if she were searching in his eyes a confirmation to her own words.

John smiled his assent and buried his face in the crook of her soft neck as she resumed her tirade. She smelled warm and clean, of water and the Athosian herbal soap she and many other women on Atlantis had come to prefer to the military issued bars. The t-shirt she had thrown on after the shower had the vague scent of fabric softener he'd come to associate to Atlantis and her.

With his woman in his arms and no impending doom on the city he felt relaxed enough to be ready to spoon up and sleep, and Elizabeth still sounded as eager as she had when she'd given her speech at the SGC, before they all stepped through the Stargate.

John suspected it had a lot to do with the amount of sugar currently running through her veins.

"It's fascinating. Apparently this civilization had reached a technological level similar to that of mid-nineteenth England before the Wraith attacked the planet."

"Very interesting." He mumbled idly, his lips vibrating against the skin of her neck.

"John, people on Earth were still drawing bulls on cave walls ten thousand years ago. If you think about it…"

"It's overwhelming, I know."

Her mouth snapped shut as she tilted her head and studied his face, her own expression slightly bewildered. It was easy sometimes to forget the contemplative nature that lay beneath the stereotypical aviator attitude. She reached up and placed a tender kiss at the corner of his mouth, his two-day stubble scraping a little the softer skin of her cheek.

"What was that for?"

She looked away, and he followed her movement to return her gesture with a kiss of his own. "I just…thank you for today. And for every day you stand at my side."

John smiled the warm smile that was reserved for their private moments only. Sometimes it was hard to believe all this –Atlantis, the Ancients, the Wraith, Elizabeth – was real; that he'd come so far.

He often thought he was going to wake up one morning and find himself still at McMurdo, his head full of doubts on whether leaving the air force to become a civilian pilot would be the wisest choice for his destroyed career. John shook the thoughts away once again.

"It's going to cost you a little more than a peck on the cheek, you know." He ran the side of his foot up her long calf, lifting up the leg of her sweatpants in the process. He noticed with pleasure that she had shaven during shower and he let his foot linger a little more than necessary, rubbing up and down against the smooth skin.

"Wasn't earlier enough for you?" The tone she voiced it in was almost enough to shake all thoughts of cuddles and sleep out of his head. She stretched, using him for support, her back arching just a little bit and her neck fully exposed a mere inch from his lips. John's nerves tingled pleasantly where she was pressed tightly against him, and he wished he had a third hand to run down her spine, feeling each small indentation beneath the thin silk of her skin.

"Well…" He pulled a mock-pensive face as a stray hand crept down toward the waistband of her pants.

She laughed, blocking his hand. "Don't push your luck, Sheppard." She squeezed that same hand then, her laughter dying and her voice turning soft. "You know, I really meant it when I said thank you."

She fingered the pendant resting at the base of her throat. Her eyes had looked about to pop out of their sockets when she had found the slender velvet box under the pillow, drifting from him to the box and back again as she uncovered the necklace.

A small gold star dangled just below a slightly bigger white gold one; elegant, yet simple. And if the shimmer in her eyes as he had fastened it around her neck had meant something, he was pretty sure she had liked the unexpected gift.

"You know, you shouldn't have. The books were more than enough." She added.

John's lips trailed a lazy path from her cheek down to the sharp angle of her jaw.

"I wanted to." And he did, since he'd seen the necklace stare back at him from a shop window in Colorado Springs the last time they had visited Earth.

It had reminded him of her because, after all they'd been through, she could still look at the stars in awe and appreciate the wonders of nature without the clinical –or cynical- eye that had spread like a disease among the expedition members.

His thoughts might have not been of a romantic nature back then, but one way or another, she had already worked her way under his skin.

No rings or bracelets for practical Dr.Weir. The plastic and rubber SGC watch was the only item she allowed near her restless hands, tied tight enough around her slim wrist so it wouldn't get in the way while she typed.

"It's too much." She was still watching the metal shine at her every breath under the artificial light of the room, streaks of brightness flashing against the opposite wall as she moved. Elizabeth had a vague memory of doing the same with her watch in 8th grade, during a particularly boring lesson.

"You deserve it. And I thought your neck looked naked like that." He also felt the need to mark her as his after she had shed the reminder of her relationship with Dr. Wallace, but he wasn't about to admit that to her, or to anyone else.

"I thought you liked me naked." Her face was currently hidden from him by a curtain of brunette curls, but he knew her well enough to know her right eyebrow would be arched suggestively.

"Still do. Although, you'll agree with me that jewels add a sexy touch." He kissed her shoulder where the thin chain rested against her skin. "And then it will act as a breastplate."

"A what?" She scowled.

"It was in one of those poems we read last month. The glimmer of the breastplate distracts the fools people from what's beneath, or something like that." With his other hand already resting on her ribs, it took him a minimum effort to rub the underside of a breast through the thin fabric of her shirt.

"It's John Donne, and you make him sound so trivial." Elizabeth glared good-naturedly up at him.

He shrugged. "Hey, I'm a practical man."

"Your interpretation of the verses is wrong." She continued, crumbling his defense.

"Let's call it a free adaptation then." He insisted, a lopsided grin shaping on his face.

Elizabeth sighed inwardly. She decided to let him win the mock argument and relaxed against him as he dropped small kisses down the side of her neck and along her collarbone.

It was one of those times when she couldn't tell whether he was being genuinely naïve and clueless or was just putting up an act to hide something that he didn't want revealed. He was so used to the part that even her diplomatic skills didn't help her to discern between the man and the façade. At this point, she wasn't even sure John himself could anymore.

"People will wonder where this comes from." She whispered softly.

"You can say it comes from a relative, or a close friend. Pretty much everyone gets things from Earth." He didn't, just like Elizabeth herself, and Rodney, but he wasn't going to dwell on that now.

Feeling his arm on her stomach become heavier and his kisses reduced to a mere pressure of his lips on her skin, she reluctantly closed the book and set it gently on the bedside table, her PDA on top.

John automatically released his hold of her, letting her sit up and stretch her back once again. She rolled onto her fours and straddled him briefly – drawing his undivided attention to her for a moment - before she collapsed at his right side, the mattress bouncing slightly under her weight.

"Goodnight." She was just reaching out to kiss him when her earpiece crackled to life.

"And Happy Birthday, Dr.Weir." John grimaced warily as she fixed the device to her ear and tapped it active.

"Yes?" She was silent for a moment before she pushed herself off the bed and grabbed the rumpled uniform from where it had been unceremoniously discarded on the floor in their previous haste to get to the bed.

"Any life threatening injuries?" At this, John's head sprung from the pillow, the soldier in him overriding his tiredness. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion and worry, and he urged Elizabeth to share the information with a mouthed 'what.'

A raised hand in his direction calmed him momentarily as she slipped into her fatigue pants.

"Good to hear. Shall I alert Sheppard?" she nodded. "Okay, I'll be there in a minute. Weir out." Elizabeth tapped the earpiece again, effectively terminating the conversation, and turned to her waiting companion.

"One of the off-world teams due back tomorrow morning has had an accident and has just gated back. Only minor injuries, Carson is already treating them. Lorne also insisted that I let you sleep."

Both eyebrows quirked upwards this time, as well as a corner of her mouth.

"I'm sorry. Come here." He pulled her down for a gentle kiss, to which she responded almost desperately.

"Don't wait up for me, you'll probably see me at tomorrow's briefing anyway." She sighed and let him rub her back soothingly as she rather unwillingly tied up her boots.

"Be sure to get some sleep before then, okay? Come back here if you can. You know I'll miss you." That, at least, made her smile, and earned him an extra kiss before she narrowed her eyes, squared her shoulders and walked out in long strides into the core of Atlantis.

Finito

A/N: John's haphazard quote comes from John Donne's Elegy "To his mistress going to bed."

The original verse reads:

"_Unpin that spangled breast-plate, which you wear,  
That th' eyes of busy fools may be stopp'd there."_


End file.
